Berry's Berries
by bursts-of-vibration
Summary: What's a little boob between friends? Pezberry one-shot.


"_She was left no time to get dressed. Kept her hair wet. Because of a chia pet. Me with my head high. Punched her in her pie_,"

Loudly singing Amy Winehouse's 'Back to Black', Santana clutches her makeshift hairbrush microphone tightly, ignoring an indignant Rachel as she yells at her from the bathroom for altering the lyrics.

"Stop it, Santana! We're already late, which I might add is entirely your fault, and you were hogging all the hot water."

"Whatever, Berry. Just admit you wanted to catch a glimpse of my goodies so you could sate the blatant sexual desires for me you have coming off you in suffocating waves," calls out Santana.

"Oh, _please_," Rachel leans her towel clad body against the door separating her bedroom and the bathroom, "With the boarding on indecent way you walk around this apartment, do you honestly believe that I would need to try and sneak a peak of your 'goodies' while you're showering?"

Santana steps into a strapless, black dress, ignoring Rachel as she shimmies her hips back and forth, tugging the material past her waist.

Annoyed by Santana's rudeness, Rachel points her toothbrush accusingly at the brunette, "And if you want to talk about 'blatant sexual desires', don't think that I haven't noticed you staring at my legs while I put on my routine nightly moisturiser."

"Gross," Santana scoffs, "I, do, not check out your legs, weirdo. As if. And even if I did, which again, I don't, you would never know it. I mastered covert leering in High School."

"Yeah, because nobody ever noticed the way you used to froth at the mouth like a rabid dog every time Brittany walked past. Or sat down. Or breathed," mocks Rachel.

"That's different," says Santana.

"Why? Because she's tall?

"No."

"Blonde?"

"_Rachel,_" Santana shoots Rachel a warning glare.

"Has thighs that could crush a coconut?"

Santana throws her hands up in the air, "**Because it's not leering if you're in love with them**." she shouts.

Shocked at the sudden outburst, Rachel fiddles with the toothbrush in her hand, "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." Santana rubs her hands across her face, frustrated with herself.

"Do you," Rachel takes a cautious step forward towards Santana, "Do you want to, talk about it?" she asks quietly.

"No. I do not want to talk about it, Rachel." sighs Santana, avoiding Rachel's concerned gaze by focusing on unnecessarily adjusting her breasts in her dress as she blinks away the tears starting to cloud her vision.

Feeling terrible for upsetting Santana by bringing up the girls ex, Rachel walks the few steps it takes to get to her immaculately made bed and gently sits down.

Having caught a glimpse of the unshed tears swimming in Santana's eyes, Rachel lets Santana compose herself while fiddling with her dress before speaking again.

"You know, when Finn and I broke up-"

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

"_When we broke up_," pushes Rachel, ignoring Santana's interruption, "I thought that I'd never get out of bed again. Sure, our relationship had had it's fair share of ups and downs, probably more than most."

"Get to the point, Berry. I'm in no mood to be dragged kicking and screaming down memory lane; and I _will_ kick you."

"The point, Santana, is that you're not alone. I know what losing the person you thought was your soulmate feels like," keeping her voice quite and soothing Rachel offers Santana a smile, "And as much as you repeated claim to detest the idea, you and I are friends. And as your friend, I'm here for you if ever you want to talk about anything; anything at all."

Santana stares blankly at Rachel. "Are you finished?" she asks.

"Umm, I believe so, yes." nods Rachel.

"Good. Now get dressed before you have a peekaboo moment and I have to gouge my eyes out." shudders Santana, checking her make-up in the mirror on Rachel's vanity; giving her reflection a wink before leaving the room.

"Santana?" calls Rachel.

"What?" Santana pokes her head back into the room.

Rachel plucks at the loose threads on her bedspread and asks, "Do you- Would it be too much to ask that we skip going out tonight and just, stay in?"

The snarky remark Santana has on the tip of her tongue dies when she notices the silent pleading shining in Rachel's eyes.

"Why?" she questions softly, "You haven't shut up about how excited you are 'HisAndHis' finally took your suggestion for a 'It's Babs, bitch' Barbera Streisand tribute night seriously."

"I'm just, not in the mood anymore I guess."

"Is this because you said the 'F' word?"

"I did no such thing!" exclaims Rachel.

"_Finn_, Rachel. I meant, Finn." sighs Santana.

Rachel nods, "I haven't thought about him in a while; saying his name again brought up some memories that I guess hit me a little harder than I expected them to, considering how much time has passed."

"I still can't watch Finding Nemo without wanting to cry." admits Santana.

"Brittany's favorite?"

"Brittany's favourite," she confirms.

The girls share a smile before Santana claps her hands together loudly.

"Okay!" she exclaims, "I'll order the pizza and you," she points at Rachel, "You put some clothes on because I do _not_ want your bare ass sitting on the same couch my bare ass sits on. It's like, cross-contamination or something."

Rachel jumps up from the bed and clips excitedly, "Girls night in!"

Santana rolls her eyes at the ridiculous sight that is Rachel Berry in a towel, vibrating with excitement as she bounces around like a crackhead.

"Can vegans eat anchovies?" Santana asks herself while walking out of Rachel's bedroom in search of the phone.

Rachel grabs her pyjamas from under her pillow; pulling on the bottoms before dropping her towel and making a grab for the matching top.

"Wait," she freezes.

Rachel's eyes widen comically. Santana. Bare ass. Couch. Communal, couch.

"Santana Lopez! Have you been sitting on the furniture while naked?!" shouts Rachel, storming her way out of her room and into the kitchen.

"Hang on," Santana pulls the phone away from her ear, pushing it against her shoulder before turning to face an irate Rachel.

"_Yeeess_," she drawls out slowly, raising an eyebrow. "Although, unlike you, I'm alone when I let my ladies out to breath."

Rachel puts her hands on her hips. "What are you talking about?" she huffs, not understanding why Santana is smirking at her.

Santana points back and forth between her own breasts.

Rachel looks down to her own chest. Her _naked_, chest.

"Nice berries, Berry."

Rachel's squeal is drowned out by Santana's cackling.


End file.
